What the Bachelor Gets
Page 13
“And you?”
Gage shrugged again and closed the dishwasher door. “Jase and I will ride with him.”
Callie swallowed. No, they weren’t the brothers that sitcoms were made of. They were so much … more. And that more was dangerous. More dangerous than Gage wearing Hugo Boss or Gage dating a local socialite. They were connected, a unit. She’d come home hoping to reconnect with her parents, to build something with them. What she got was her parents driving off into the sunset and a business arrangement with Gage, and these emotions that kept getting in the way of the business. She couldn’t afford to get distracted from her goals.
She needed distance. People around. “Where is everybody?” Ranches were supposed to be busy places. Since her arrival, she’d seen a number of workers around the place. Rollie had gone into and out of the barn at least three times, but none of the staff approached the house.
“Most of them live off the property. Rollie still lives in the little cottage on the other side of the barn, but when we were rebuilding, it didn’t seem financially prudent to employ house staff or keep up a bunkhouse. And the guys like going home, leaving work at work,” Gage said, leading her onto the back porch. The bench swing she remembered from their childhood had been re-covered in a pretty red, checked fabric. She sat, pulling a cushion to her chest. “I’m only out here occasionally, Connor less often,” Gage went on. “I think Jase might have been here two years ago, but it’s probably closer to three.” Gage sat in the old rocking chair across from the swing. “We can afford house staff now, but it still doesn’t seem worth it. So when I come out, I cook and clean up, and Rollie makes sure we have a supply of fresh food. Once a month, the cleaning company that looks after Rollie’s place comes in here. It works for us.”
She should go—put some of that distance she just told herself she wanted between them again. Callie pushed her foot against the porch floor to set the swing in motion. “I forgot how quiet the desert can be,” she said after a while. The sun began to set over the mountains, and the sky turned a brilliant pink. Splashes of orange and red streaked across as the pink deepened. God, she loved the desert. And she missed her parents’ ranch. Her condo sat back on a quiet street, but there were other homes all around. No clear views in any direction.
“Cal?”
“Yeah?” She leaned her head against the swing back.
“I’m sorry about dinner.”
“No big deal. The food was good.” And whatever was going on between Gage and Connor was none of her business.
“Yeah, but I didn’t ask you out here just so you could try my steak.”
“I know. You wanted to let me say good-bye to the coyote.”
The rocker creaked, and then the cushion next to Callie moved. Gage sat beside her, resting his head against the seat back just like her. “Not really.”
“Then why did you ask me out here, cowboy?” She was playing with fire, but for the moment, she didn’t care.
Gage took her hand in his, and the touch sizzled up her arm. Callie swallowed. “I missed you. We weren’t the best of friends back then, and I didn’t realize it until you walked into my office, but I missed you, Cal.” Gage cleared his throat. “So I called because I thought … ”
Callie waited, but Gage didn’t say more. She put a teasing note into her voice. “You thought I might try your steak?”
He chuckled. “I thought, maybe, we could be friends again.”
Callie tried not to let the words stab at her heart. He wanted to be friends. Just as well that she learn that now and not later. “We are friends, Gage.”
His hand squeezed against hers, but Callie kept her gaze trained on the desert. Because she didn’t want to be Gage’s friend, not really. At least, that wasn’t all she wanted. And for at least the next year she had to pretend friendship was enough.
Chapter Nine
Gage had never been so focused on building a friendship in his life.
A week after having dinner with Callie at the ranch, he sat at his desk in his building downtown, looking out over Vegas. People scurried by on the sidewalk, and he could see a mass of tourists heading for Fremont Street. Maybe he could talk Callie into coming with him to test out Jase’s new blackjack table at one of the hotels. Jase didn’t need, or particularly want, Gage’s input, but Callie didn’t have to know that. Now he just needed a way to ask her that wouldn’t make it sound like a date. She was disturbingly emphatic about their relationship staying within certain boundaries.
Barb brought in a few folders with details about a construction deal over the state line in Utah, and Gage shuffled through the papers while he watched the street below. Somewhere between inviting Callie to the ranch and dinner, being her friend had fallen down his list of priorities. He wanted to see her laugh. Wanted to talk to her about things. But it was clear Callie only wanted his friendship. As if men and women could ever be just friends.
Usually when he was interested in a woman he was direct. He invited her out to dinner, and whatever happened, happened. This friendship thing was messing with his game. But if he wanted a real date with Callie, it was the best place to start.
He picked up his cell to text her, but a Post-it stuck to the back of a page of notes from the seller in Utah caught his attention. Since he’d already won the job, Gage had no qualms about reading the offer notes. PRO-TEM had offered two percent more than Gage had, but their plans for the development were less eco-friendly. They’d planned to build three hundred homes on the acreage; Gage planned no more than two hundred. Their materials were high-end granite, bamboo, and Brazilian cherry, items that would make beautiful interiors. The cost to the environment, though, would be much more than Gage’s proposal. Interesting.
Gage threw the post-it in the trash. PRO-TEM wasn’t a bad organization, but it was a coup to know how they approached developments, because he could play up his own angles of using renewable resources, conservation, and environmental protection. He signed off on the agreement with the Utah landowners and sealed the envelope. Barb would send it to the county commission, and the project would be underway by the fall. One more thing off his to-do list. He put his booted feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair to watch the tourists. He could play up the “help Jase with a game” angle, and after they played, maybe they could get lost in the crowd along Fremont. Callie seemed to love playing tourist. At the very least she liked the neon and the crowds, and Fremont was full of both, day and night. Add in the favor-for-a-friend angle, and Gage was 99 percent sure he’d have his first date with Callie well in hand by nine o’clock.
A few hours later, they sat side by side at a black leather-covered table with candy apple-red suede over the top. The dealer turned up cards, and Gage considered what was on the table. Jase’s game was a kind of cross between baccarat and roulette, and from what he could tell, his hand should beat the dealer. Beating Callie was something else altogether. So far she’d taken four of the five hands, and a small crowd was beginning to develop around her.
He watched her eyes as she studied the cards in her hand versus the ones on the table. Her eyes narrowed, and she twitched her mouth to the left. Had to be a tell, but he didn’t know what the expression was telling. Gage hedged. Callie went all in.
The dealer, a middle-aged woman wearing a French maid’s costume with a newsboy cap, turned over the last card, and Callie whooped. The dealer took the last of Gage’s chips and started stacking twenty-five- and fifty-dollar chips before Callie.
“You should maybe stop and let your girlfriend win back your cash,” the woman said in a raspy, smoker’s voice.
“Oh, we’re just friends,” Callie chirped as she stacked the new chips with the old. She glanced at Gage. “Want to play another round?”
No, he didn’t want to play, and not only because she’d fleeced him in less than an hour. She was having too much fun for him to stop it, though. “You can play, I’m going to sit this one out. See if I can figure out your secret.”
&nbs
p; The dealer started the next round, and this time Gage studied Callie more than he studied the cards. She twitched her lip and narrowed her eyes before placing her bet. The crowd behind them waited until the dealer finished and Callie showed her hand. She beat the dealer by two points. The crowd sighed collectively. Once Callie had her chips, which filled a small plastic bucket from the dealer, she pushed away from the table. She startled when she saw the people standing around them.
“You drew a crowd.”
“I guess so.” A few people chucked her shoulder or offered congratulations, but the attention seemed to embarrass Callie. They made it through the crowd to the cage, and she traded the chips for cash. “Buy you a drink?”
“Sure, but not in here. Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Down Fremont? It’s neon heaven, let’s go.”
Callie bought Coronas at a sidewalk kiosk, and they wandered with the tourists, watching the ceiling video screens and listening to the laughing screams of zip-liners above them. Gage’s hand brushed against Callie’s, and his fingers twitched. It would be so easy to take her hand in his, like he’d done on the back porch a few nights ago. He didn’t, because he didn’t want Callie to pull away. Didn’t want to hear another “let’s be friends” excuse. It was hard, though, not to let their hands touch accidentally, just one more time.
“This is my favorite street. Ever. Name one street, anywhere in the world, that is better than this one.” She looked up at him. “Well?”
“That’s not rhetorical?” She narrowed her big, blue eyes. “Okay. Broadway in New York?”
Callie shook her head. “Too much car exhaust.”
“Whatever that street is in LA where people rollerblade and bike?”
“Too much sand. Try again.”
“Las Vegas Boulevard, a couple blocks down?”
“Too loud, and there are the card snappers to deal with,” she said, mentioning the workers who flipped business cards for strippers and call girls throughout the day.
“I give up.”
“You’re not even going to attempt international?” she teased.
“I could try some place in Morocco or Egypt, but you’d bring up camels, and there has to be a beautiful waterway in Venice, but you would probably focus on the pollution in the water. So for the second time tonight you win.”
Callie bumped her shoulder against his and then finished her beer. “There is just something about walking in the middle of what used to be an actual street.”
“And the neon.”
“Goes without saying.”
On the screened roof, a man got down on one knee and held a ring box out to a woman in a blue-striped maxi dress. She covered her face with her hands and nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“Seriously, where else can you look up and see a video proposal instead of the stars?”
His hand bumped against hers again, and this time Gage couldn’t resist. He took her hand in his, threading their fingers together. Callie’s hand was warm in his, her skin soft, her fingers small. They reached the end of the street and turned back, but instead of walking forward, Callie stopped.
“Did Jase really need you to check that new game?”
He couldn’t read her expression, and he was tired of playing games, anyway. “Jase couldn’t care less if I think the game is easy or hard. He probably wouldn’t even want my opinion on how it’s set up. Games are his forte. Buildings are mine.”
“So this is a … ”
“Date. An uncomplicated first date. You, me, and a walk down Fremont.”
Callie twitched her mouth to the side and narrowed her eyes. “It’s not uncomplicated. I’m still leasing a building in your development. You're still my investor.”
“You made me take a coyote pup to the ranch.”
“And for that I owe you a date?”
“No. You don’t owe me anything. Not even the truth.”
“And your truth is I wanted to go on a date with you?” Her voice had a hard edge to it.
Gage held up their still linked hands. “Only as much as I wanted to go on a date with you and complicate the hell out of our working relationship.”
She sighed and focused her gaze on their hands, hanging between their bodies but still linked together. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“We’ve been over this part. I don’t care.”
“Me either.” Finally, she raised her blue gaze to his, and the intensity there made his gut clench. “But I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“That sounds a lot like a challenge, Cal.”
They left the bustle of Fremont for the relative quiet of the parking garage, her hand still in his. Gage decided he liked this holding-hands stage, but that wouldn’t stop him from kissing her good night when he dropped her at the condo. Not sleeping together didn’t mean not doing other things.
“It’s not a challenge.” She seemed to weigh her words. “You know I was married. I did it for all the wrong reasons, and I’m trying to break that habit. I came back to Vegas to get my life back on track. Sleeping with the first attractive guy I meet—”
“We didn’t just meet.”
“You know what I mean. Sleeping with you … it’s not the answer to my problems.”
Gage pulled into traffic and shot her a sidelong glance. “I’ve been told I’m the answer to some problems.” That made her laugh; the sound was like a bell in the cab of his truck. “Callie, I know the complications. I don’t like the complications. I don’t do complications—not normally, anyway. But I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. Not your business. Not my profit margin. You.” He took a deep breath. “I keep thinking of the girl who talked me through my dad’s funeral and the girl who always had the right answers on the trig tests and the woman who was willing to take all the blame for being bamboozled by a shady real estate agent. I liked that girl, and I like the woman she’s become even more.”
“My, my, Mr. Reeves, you’ve certainly learned how to flatter.”
“You know, I’m not just a pretty face.”
She put her fingers on his chin and turned his head slightly. It took all of Gage’s concentration to keep his eyes on the road and his tongue off her fingers, because her skin burned against his. He could smell vanilla on her hands.
“It’s definitely a good face,” she said and dropped her hands to her lap. “But it isn’t just the face. You helped me save the pup, found it a home, and had to field dozens of irate calls because of it. You maneuvered me into your building in the nicest way and even showed up for the unpacking. You’ve grown up, Gage, and I want to get to know the man while I’m remembering the boy you used to be.”
Gage pulled the truck into Callie’s drive behind her tiny Bug, but she didn’t get out. The red tile roof of her condo shone under the light of the full moon. She’d xeriscaped the lawn, he saw, using rock, cactus, and drought-resistant plants. Or maybe her father did it, and she never changed it. Didn’t matter. The yard looked nice in the moonlight.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said, and before she could object he was around the truck.
Callie unlocked the front door but didn’t move to go inside. Instead, she stood beside him as if waiting. Their bodies didn’t touch, but he could feel a slight hum that seemed to connect him to her.
“Good night, Gage.”
“Good night, Cal.”
This time she moved, toward him. Gage stepped forward, too, and leaned in to press his lips to hers. She was soft, her full lips steady beneath his, and she tasted like the Corona and lime she’d been drinking. Gage slipped his hands to her neck to play his thumbs against the sensitive skin beneath her jaw, and Callie stepped forward again, this time bringing her body in full contact with his. His dick jumped in his jeans.
Her hands pressed against his chest and then pushed up around his neck. Callie slanted her head and opened her mouth to him. Gage pushed her against the doorframe, insinuating his leg between hers as he took the kiss deeper.
Finally, he broke the kiss, panting, his lips millimeters from hers.
Callie swallowed, and he watched the muscles in her throat slide down and then up slowly. She blew out a breath.
“Good night, Gage?” It was a question, and he didn’t want to answer it.
“Good night, Cal,” he said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Before he could talk himself into her condo, Gage returned to the truck. He sat in the cab for a long moment, watching until Callie went inside and closed the door. Then he looked at his jeans and said, “Cold shower, buddy, ice-cold shower.”
• • •
Callie closed the door and pressed her back against the cool wood. Gage flashed his headlights in the window and then backed out.
Kissing him was the best mistake she’d made in a long time. She knew she shouldn’t do it again. Shouldn’t go out with him. Probably shouldn’t answer the phone when he called. But she knew she would answer. She would go.
She would sleep with him, and she wouldn’t regret it.
Callie tossed her small purse on the side table in the hall and then picked up a room-temperature bottle of water from the counter where she’d left it that morning. She traded the warm water for a refrigerated bottle and continued down the hall. Her parents smiled from a picture taken of them on the porch at the ranch, and she wondered what they would think of her dating Gage.
Her father would think it was funny, his business-degreed daughter dating the neighboring rancher. He wouldn’t care Gage was more property developer than cowboy. Her mom would worry, as moms did, but she’d always had a soft spot for Gage and his brothers. In the bathroom, Callie flicked on the taps in the shower and let the water run warm before shedding her clothes and climbing beneath the spray.
Not that it really mattered what her parents thought. Dating Gage, sleeping with him, was her decision. Keeping her feelings in check, that would be the problem. Because after one kiss she wanted more.